


The Last SMP (TLSMP) - A Planned Excerpt

by diibs



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), The Last of Us (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Apocalypse, Brotherly Bonding, Brothers, Gen, Post-Apocalypse, Protective Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:40:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28623444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diibs/pseuds/diibs
Summary: This is a small blurb of a fanfiction I'm planning! It's labelled TLSMP (a mix of The Last of Us and Dream SMP.)It's still in developing stages and this is just for fun.This focuses on Wilbur and Tommy and Wilbur's reoccurring dream, only this time... Something's different.(They are not directly related in this; that will be explained in the actual longer fanfiction. )
Kudos: 11





	The Last SMP (TLSMP) - A Planned Excerpt

Wilbur couldn't breathe when he awoke.

He was surrounded by deep blues and indigo, air bubbles ascending from his mouth and nose up above his eyes. Wide open now, staring blankly ahead, then above. His clothes were tattered and wilbur was more than sure he was bleeding somewhere or another.  
He felt his body continue to sink deeper under the water, and his mind faintly buzzed with a question; how long would it take to reach the bottom of the ocean?  
Or lake?  
...River?  
Yeah. A river. Totally.  
Wilbur never really had a chance to find out.

He briefly considered making an effort to swim to the surface, but he knew his aching muscles didn't have the will to do so. He instead rubs his eyes under the water, creating an uncomfortable sensation behind them, before-  
Oh. 

Among the navy blue sea, there is a faded red.  
And soft, pale yellow; short blonde hair. The air bubbles from the figure are a bit more frantic, and Wilbur watches, stunned as the body comes to life.  
A gurgled sound is muffled, but Wilbur heard it. The boys hands fell over his mouth, as if he was trying to stop himself from drowning that way. He looks down, up, then- at Wilbur. 

Why wasn't Wilbur moving? Or doing something? Anything?  
To be completely fair, Wilbur had only ever been alone in this dream.  
In the depths he would sit, traditionally after a pretty rough patch in his life and he would just... Sink.  
He would let the water consume him and he would, presumably, drown. He hadn't felt death, though, just... Defeat.  
Is it even defeat if he didn't fight it in the first place?

Right, the boy.  
The boy looks puzzled, reaching his arm towards Wilbur. There's a look that the boy gives Wilbur; one that's quizzical, as if asking, 'have we met before?'- only through a simple stare and tilt of the head. They weren't too far away, the boys hand reaching Wilbur's. Wilbur looked down at the smaller hand, confused, then back at the boy.  
Something... Wasn't right. As if that wasn't apparent by now.  
He takes the boys hand and shakes it, slowed by the heavy water that trapped them underneath the sea. The boy laughs, but remembers he's underwater, and chokes.

Wilbur is thrown into a panic.  
Finally, his body is convinced to take some sort of action.  
He grabs the slightly smaller boy and pulls him, following the air bubbles so he knew where to swim. Tommy's body wracked with choking coughs, sputtering when they surfaced.  
Tommy? Wilbur wasn't sure what drew the name out, but-  
"Tommy?!"  
Wilbur's voice is shrill and panicked, dragging Tommy towards where he knew the shore was. He'd swam up here before, watched the sun rise, then woke up.  
But this was different.  
Wilbur finally crawled out of the sea, waves crashing into the pair, pushing them down when they were barely able to stand.  
Wilbur was dragging Tommy under his shoulders now, staggering to clear themselves from the crashing waves. Tommy was stumbling after, still coughing his lungs out and spitting out water. He hacks and shakes, one hand on his chest and the other gripping onto Wilbur's forearm with a stuttering grip.

"Tommy?" Wilbur's voice had finally quieted to a regular speaking tone, catching his breath and sitting down a bit more comfortably. "Are you okay? Can you breathe?"  
It takes the younger boy a minute, releasing Wilbur's arm and planting both hands on the ground.  
"Holy shit, hah, land-" Tommy wheezes, coughing out more water. Wilbur flinches and pats his back, but after a moment, Tommy nods.  
"Yeah," he sighs, pushing back slightly and sitting with his legs folded. "I, uh, I'm fine."

The two quietly nod, then take a couple minutes to properly catch their breath under the midnight sky. Wilbur leans back on his palms, beginning to say something, but Tommy punches him in the arm with a weak force.  
"Ah, what the-" Wilbur frowns, looking at Tommy. "What?"  
He rubs his arm, furrowing his brows as Tommy glares.  
"What the hell was that? You took so long to get us out of there. And you shook my hand? Were you trying to kill me, Wil?"  
Tommy is exasperated, coughing a couple times again. Wilbur blinks and pushes wet, soggy hair away from his eyes.

"Tommy, I-, uh, I guess I hit my head or something."  
Not Wilbur's best lie.  
"Ugh, whatever, just- god, ya dickhead." Tommy accepts it reluctantly. Wilbur sighs with relief.

Tommy stumbles to his feet, reaching his arm for Wilbur's again.  
"C'mon, best we get out of here before you try to drown me again."

Wilbur rolls his eyes and takes Tommy's help, standing up. He stretches, then ruffles Tommy's matted, dirty blonde hair- to which Tommy protests with grumbles and lazy arm swats.

"We should-"

-

"Be at The Utopia soon, right?"  
Wilbur blinks a couple times and adjusts to his dark room. Well, not his, technically- whoever's room this was before they, uh... Borrowed it.  
Yeah.  
Borrowed it.

He sits up, "Will, I'm talking to you."  
Wilbur looks over at Tommy, who's holding a can of peaches and using his pocket knife to pop open the lid, with great difficulty.  
"I was sleeping, Tommy."  
Wilbur shook his head, gesturing to Tommy to hand over the can and knife.  
Tommy huffs, but he hands over the food.  
Wilbur begins to work at it, and under a couple minutes, it pops open.  
"Yeah, sleeping. Are you sure 'bout that? You were yelling at me earlier. Just about shit myself."  
Tommy takes the can of peaches and his switchblade back from a blinking-in-surprise Wilbur. He looked away for a second. "Ah, sorry. Had a weird dream I guess. Something about the water."

Wilbur didn't really want to...talk about that dream. Or any other iteration before it.  
Even though the one he had that night was much different from the others, and Wilbur didn't know exactly wh-  
"Tommy. Get. A fork."  
Tommy looked up with innocent eyes, hunched with the can and stabbing into it with his switchblade.  
"Whyyy?" He frowns and whines, pulling the blade back out, which now had a peach kabob'd onto it.  
Tommy eats it.  
"You're going to cut your mouth open," Wilbur protests with an exasperated sigh, and Tommy laughs, "We eat like men, Will! If our mouths get cut, so be it! It creates character!"  
Tommy continues without a fork and Wilbur gives up, standing from the matress and stretching. His joints popped, to which Tommy muttered, "ah, lovely," under his breath as he ate. That earned a small flick to the head.

The room had a bed (what appeared to have once been a nice one, too) but the bedframe was broken down the middle. So Wilbur moved the mattress onto the floor and the both of them slept on it that way. Wilbur honestly couldn't complain about lack of bed sheets, blankets or pillows; this mattress was better than most places he had slept in the last five years.

The room was still decorated with framed and cracked pictures of a family. Two women and their children. They looked happy in the faded photographs hung around.  
Next to the bed was a small bedside drawer, where inside Tommy had found a magazine for women's clothing (a lot of which had been circled or hearted, with opposing colors; blue and purple. Wilbur found it cute) and a comic.  
Tommy was pretty excited about the comic of course.

For the dresser that sat across from the bed, Wilbur and Tommy had no intention of looking through the dresser, but instead observed what was on top, which were some left-over notepads and a disposable camera.  
Of course, Tommy found that and began messing with it and took a picture of the older man, not realizing he had turned the flash on.  
After recovering from the temporary blindness, (over-exaggeration, Tommy said) Wilbur thumbed through the notepads and got nostalgic for life before... All this.

"What are you thinking about?"  
Tommy zipped up his bag and pulled it on, adjusting his layered hoodie and shirt under the straps before looking around for his knife he had left in the empty peaches can. He looked back at Wilbur to ask his question.

"What to do."  
Wilbur pulled his bag on as well, yawning as he adjusted his beanie.  
With that, they navigated their way downstairs and did a final sweep of the house, in case they left any supplies untouched or alone.  
They both survey the outside before walking out, staying quiet as they left the abandoned home.

Next stop was the 'Utopia.'  
A place where, hopefully, the Fireflies would be held up somewhere and would know how to handle a case like Tommy's.  
Wilbur wasn't sure what to expect on that front, but he knew what to expect in other-

"Why can't I use a gun?"  
"Don't start, Tommy."  
"Whyy?"

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading!! My instagram is @/d.iibs, I post art relating to this au and I'll soon hopefully get some canon designs for all the characters I'm planning to implement into the story!  
> Keep in mind I'm not planning to really go strictly by the SMP lore; I'll probably have some nods to it and some characterization used in the SMP will be used on here too.  
> Not sure when it'll all be done. Thank you!  
> -dibs


End file.
